Springtime with Tache
Chet encrypted his password for this blog and it has taken me quite a while to figure it out. I'm sure all of you have missed me quite a bit so here I am!! I have to write this quickly before Chet gets home.
I'm quite in love with this surgery thing Chet is undergoing, because he has started feeding me Fancy Feast!!!! Tache approves.
Still, I hope all of you aren't fooled into feeling sympathy for Chet. This surgery of his is just one con in a long line of lies and disinformation. Chet LOVES the attention he's getting. I have started sleeping on his bed with him and sometimes I even slide myself up next to his face to make him think I love him, but it's only in order to keep the Fancy Feast coming. Chet's a fool and he's easily deceived by false affections. Just ask Carla or Henry. I was really nice to him today, but he fed me about an hour ago and I've ignored him ever since. Tomorrow I'll play the same game and Chetty poo will fall for it, because he's stupid.
Chet's friend Andrew was here for a visit this week. If you want to see someone act like a fool, watch Chet around Andrew. He's positively gushy. It makes me sick! I let Andrew pet me, but only because he didn't make eye contact with me, otherwise he would have pulled back a bloody stump like Chet's foolish friend Michael Roberts did when he visited. Chet has been sad all week long since Andrew's departure. What a sap!
I've been reading about the 1960s. I've come to the conclusion that America and the rest of the world would have turned out just fine if babyboomers weren't such navel-gazing, self absorbed ninnies. Rather than seeking change by altering existing institutions, they looked inward. "The personal is political." Well, no it's not. Or, at least, it's not nearly as political as, say, legal and economic institutions, or broadly shared civic values. I'm not quite sure how "consciousness raising" was supposed to change the world; it seems like a fairly weak and American notion to me. But I'm not surprised that the generation of 1968, once they left school and got well paying jobs, turned out to be the most spoiled, consumeristic, and conformist generation to ever inhabit the planet. The hippies became the yippies, and the yippies became the yuppies, and 39 years after 1968, this generation re-elected George W. Bush.
Of course, a lot of people think that cats are self-absorbed. But that's because people project their own sense of self onto the animals who live in their houses.
Shit, here comes Chet.